Brothers
by SnapesSonDracosBoy
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were two boys at the opposite end of the spectrum. or so everyone thought. Angst ridden and petrified, how will they cope? And what does Severus Snape have to do with it all? find out! RATED FOR ABUSE AND VIOLENCE, INCLUDING RAPE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
1. Werewolves and Boggarts

**Werewolves and Boggarts**

"Riddikulus!" shouted Ronald Weasley, his boggart – a giant acromantula – suddenly gaining roller blades. The large arachnid slipped and slid before falling into its stomach, defeated.

"Well done, Mr. Weasley!" congratulated Remus Lupin, the professor this year for Defence Against the Dark Arts. "Very well done. Now, who's next?"

The kindly werewolf was amused to find all but two of his fourth period students step back, leaving just Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood forward.

"Right then. Mr. Potter? Would you like to go next?" a warm smile spread across his marred face as he addressed his dead best friend's son.

"Yes, sir," replied the onyx haired thirteen year old, stepping closer to the wardrobe in which the subdued boggart resided.

"Well then, the incantation is Riddikulus –"

"- This class is 'riddikulus'," snorted Malfoy, a tall, slim built blond boy, as he leant against an abandoned Grindylow tank.

Harry rolled his eyes, biting his tongue. It wouldn't do to slag Malfoy off in front of his favourite professor.

"Thank you, Draco. Now, Harry, if you wouldn't mind?" Lupin motioned to the wardrobe, and receiving a nod from the boy, flicked his wand, setting the shapeshifter free of its confines.

Before anyone could blink, a large, black cloaked figure emerged from the closet, cold air chilling all who stood near enough. Those who were shivered, stepping further backwards until their backs bumped into the wall. A dementor wasn't a very nice creature to be around, real or not.

"R-r-riddikulus!" Harry stood, jaw clenched and head spinning, as the dark, soul sucking beast hovered closer to where he stood. Finding new strength, he straightened his back and hardened his eyes, steadying his wand hand. "RIDDIKULUS!" With that – very powerful – casting, the imagined horror melted into a puddle on the floor, before being banished back to the wardrobe with a motion of a slack-jawed Lupin's wrist.

"H-harry…"

"I'm fine professor. I believe it's Malfoy's turn now?" Harry, panting and pale, wobbled over to Ron and Hermione, his best friends since first year.

"Bloody hell mate! A Dementor? That's amazing." Ron patted Harry on the back as he joined them, Hermione hushing them as she took mental notes on the class.

Draco stood, rigid now, glaring at Harry.

"Come now, Mr. Malfoy. Everyone else has done it." Lupin chastised the seemingly sullen teenager.

"Whatever. Fine." Shouldering past his minions, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, the aristocratic, silver eyed boy wielded his wand, pointing it shakily towards where the boggart was to appear.

Nobody expected what happened next. Instead of a snake, as everyone has assumed the Slytherin's worst fear would be, Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, stepped out, a sneer on his face, grey eyes as cold and hard as chips of ice.

A slam from the corner of the room signalled Draco's departure, quickly followed by sniggers and whispers from both the Slytherin and Gryffindor sides of the room. Harry however, had a contemplative look on his face. Why had Malfoy bolted?

Following his instincts, and not feeling too guilty about it as class was soon to let out, the surprisingly intuitive boy took off after Draco.

Seemingly following his scent, Harry soon found him. The other boy was huddled over with his hands covering his face, weeping in an alcove down in the dungeons.

"Malfoy?" A flinch was all he got in response. "Draco," he tried again, this time kneeling before the frightened teenager. Harry placed a tentative hand on one of the other boy's knees, rubbing small, comforting circles with his thumb.

"Draco, it's me, Harry. I know I'm probably not the person you want right now, but I'm the only one here. You're okay. It was just a boggart – your father isn't here."

The alabaster haired boy looked up, a small, hesitant smile on his face, belying the fact that just moments before he'd been sobbing, red rimmed eyes and snot covering his handsome face.

"T-thanks?" the boy tried, unused to people being kind to him. Usually, it was just people cosying up to him to get in his father's good books. He shuddered at the thought of said man, his breathing speeding up again.

-0-

Unbeknownst to the two bonding boys, Professor Severus Snape had witnessed the encounter. If you were to look at him with an untrained eye, hiding in the shadows with his cloak wrapped tightly around him, you would believe that the man was angry. In fact, he was the opposite. Surprised, maybe, but having second thoughts? That was a definite yes.

-0-

"Hey, it's alright," reassured Harry, taking in the paling boys form. "He's not here, remember?"

A nod in response.

"Okay then. Shall we get you back to your dorms? I'm sure you'll be excused from tonights lessons."

Another nod and they were off, Harry helping the other boy stand, taking him by the hand and heaving the shockingly light boy up. Harry didn't think even _he_ was that slim, even with… well, never mind. The bespectacled boy shook his head, clearing his head from its own morose thoughts. Now was not the time.


	2. Friends

**Friends**

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking towards the Great Hall, talking amicably and hoping to get there in time to actually _get_ some food. Ronald, in particular, was starving and, following the thought of toast with eggs, his stomach let out a noise of discontent.

"Really Ronald! You'd have thought you'd not been fed for a week," Hermione Granger, a buck toothed, frizzy haired girl admonished. She was the brainy, somewhat nagging and bossy part of the Golden Trio.

Harry laughed and patted his gangly ginger friend on the shoulder as they entered the hall. There, all banter stopped between the three, as jeers and insults floated from the Slytherin table. Not, this time however, directed at any one of them, the cruel remarks were thrown frivolously at none other than the Silver Price, Draco Malfoy.

"Deserves it, the git," muttered Ron, his nasty streak showing.

Harry, who was staring intently at the blond wonder, absently slapped his friend on the arm with the back of his pale hand. "Shut up, Ron."

Hermione, who'd not deigned to comment so far, just glared between the two boys and sat, spreading jam onto a barely-done piece of toast. After a moment more of Harry staring and Ron sulking, she cleared her throat. The attention of both boys directed at her, she motioned towards the table with a raised eyebrow, indicating that they should sit and stop gawking.

Ron obeyed, as he often did – Hermione had a way of reminding his of his mother – and started piling food upon his plate, scarfing down sausages, bacon and eggs hungrily.

Harry, however, ignored her. Malfoy looked withdrawn, almost like he was pretending he was immune to anything his housemates were saying. Their taunts grew aver more petty and evil the longer he showed no emotion, and Harry could tell the boy was close to breaking point, his lips quivering slightly and his eyes having taken on a dull sheen.

Making a decision, rather abruptly, Harry stormed over to the serpent house's table and yanked Marcus Flint up off the bench by his shirt collar. The boy, a large, hefty, monobrowed bully, stopped what he was saying and stared dumbly up at Harry. It was it this point that Harry thanked Merlin for his growth spurt over the summer, it having made him taller and leaner with a lot more muscle than most of his peers.

"What d'you want _Potter_?" The name was spat with such venom that Harry almost flinched. It reminded him of how… Anyway, Harry cleared his throat.

"I _want_ you to stop being such a massive prick. Stop harassing Malfoy and grow a pair you overgrown ape."

At this, several of Marcus' cronies, plus many of the other snakes who'd been making snide remarks, drew their wands. Before any one of them could cast though, Harry had dropped Flint onto the bench and drawn his own, casting a quick Expelliarmus Maximus over the whole lot of them, disarming them before they could do something _too_ stupid.

Draco, in the mean time, had inched away until he was standing behind Harry, 'his saviour'. The blond boy composed himself and discretely poked Harry in the ribs, letting him know that he didn't need saving. Draco, of course, knew this to be a lie, but he couldn't let _everyone_ think he was a coward.

Harry turned, a small smile on his face which Draco unwittingly returned, almost as if he'd been Imperious'd. He'd later tell himself that it was actually because Harry's smile had been so genuine, that Draco was starting to think differently about him.

Right now though, there were still over a hundred Slytherins out to get him, and he had nowhere to hide. "Um. Potter. Could I have a word? Please?"

Harry was so taken aback by the use of a polite word from the boy, that he instantly nodded, following the fair haired boy out of the door into the main corridor. Once they'd found somewhere private enough, which ended up being an abandoned History of Magic classroom, they each sat, Draco staring around awkwardly and Harry staring intently. "So…" Harry prompted. "What was it you wanted?"

"I wanted to say thanks, I guess. I'm not used to people sticking up for me, much less people who are supposed to hate my guts. It's… nice. So thank you." The boys usually pale features were tinged with a hint of pink, high on his cheekbones and around his ears as he fiddled with his green and sliver striped tie.

"No need to thank me, M-Draco. It's just basic human decency, really. I would have done the same for anyone else. Although, I must admit, I don't 'hate your guts' as you put it. You're just a bit of a snob sometimes. Recently though… I've seen a change in you-" Malfoy's head shot up from where he's been looking out the window. "- and I think, maybe, if you were to introduce yourself to me now, I might just take your hand."


	3. To Tell a Tale

**To Tell a Tale**

Malfoy grinned, sticking out his right hand and saying proudly – though not arrogantly – "Hello there. My name's Draco Malfoy. You are?"

Harry, not having meant it _quite_ so literally, smiled back, a fond gleam in his emerald eyes. "My name is Harry. Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you – may I call you Draco?"

"Only if I can call you Harry." A soft smirk applied itself to the pale boy's handsome face.

"Deal." And they shook hands, finally friends.

-0-

Walking down to potions companionably, the boys talked and playfully shoved each other when bad puns were made, until they came to the thick wooden door that led to Professor Snape's classroom. A line of mingled Slytherins and Gryffindors trailed through the dungeons, meandering towards their respective favourite and least favourite lesson.

"Oi! Malfoy. Cosying up to Potter eh? Does poor little baby Dray need protecting from big bad Lucius?" A group of slytherins laughed, jeering, apparently not having learnt their lesson from lunch.

Before Draco could even think to protest, which he wouldn't have done anyway – everyone saw, - Harry had pushed him behind himself and had his wand pointed towards the group. Theodore Nott, the new apparent 'slytherin prince' paled, before drawing his own.

Luckily for him, as Harry was so furious he could have Incendio'd him, Severus Snape chose that moment to open the door to the potions lab.

"What in Merlin's name is going on here?" The dark, slender man barked. Scanning the scene before him, and noticing Harry's protective stance, he glared. "Who, might I ask, is trying to maim my Godson?" His glare was now directly focussed on Nott, who had the audacity to smirk back.

"Me, Professor. Malfoy isn't worthy of the slytherin name; I was just putting him in his place. Especially as he's chosen to cosy up to our _star_ Gryffindor. "

Snape, unamused, narrowed his eyes. He had of course known about Harry and Draco's newly formed friendship from the night before, but he'd thought that – just maybe – his Slytherins would have been accepting enough. He had clearly thought wrong. "Detention, Mr. Nott. Filch's office this evening. I will personally make sure that you have the job of scrubbing Myrtle's toilets with your very own toothbrush."

Nott spluttered but, finally taking in the seriousness on his Head of House's face, backed down.

-0-

The walk to the abandoned classroom they'd found was solemn. They'd agreed that was where they would go on their mutual free periods, just to talk and strengthen their new-found friendship. Once inside, the door firmly shut and locked behind them, Draco crumbled into a heap on the stone floor, wrapping his arms tightly around himself protectively, silent tears trickling down his – somewhat paler that usual – face.

"Hey. It's okay Draco, they'll get what's coming to them, just you see," Harry assured, sitting down beside the boy and slinging an arm over his shoulder. "Snape sorted it, right? And if they try anything else, I'll personally have their heads."

The alabaster boy nodded, not really feeling that reassured. Instead, he curled himself into the darker boy's side, biting his lip.

"What's up? I can tell there's something you're not saying."

Malfoy groaned. Was he really that easily read? Merlin, if his father knew…

A choked sob forced its way out of his mouth and starting off a new spew of tears. "I-i… I want to talk to Uncle Sev. He always makes it better, even when he has no idea what's going on."

Harry smiled at the use of the familial nick-name, absently reaching his hand up to rub soothing circles on Draco's back. "I think that'd be a good idea. Want me to come with you?"

"Yes, please. If I'm not being too much trouble?" Malfoy looked up, silvery eyes locking onto bright green ones, where he saw a fierce emotion that he couldn't name. He did know that it wasn't a bad one directed at him though; the quirk of Harry's lips gave that much away.

"Of course you're not. We're friends, right? I'd be happy to." Harry smiled at the boy properly now, pearly whites showing and all. "I'm honoured that you would trust me enough, to be honest with you."

Draco blushed, looking away. Of course he trusted him – he always had, just not for things like this, he guessed. "Thank you."

Harry motioned for the other boy to stand up, as his legs were starting to cramp up, which Draco did without fuss. Both boys standing, they walked towards the abandoned desk where they plonked themselves, Draco telling Harry the whole story from when his father first started abusing him when he was six, up until this moment in time, preparing Harry for what was to be said when they approached Severus.

Harry's fists were clenched the whole time, him unconsciously occluding his own memories of abuse so as not to break down and make it about him. This was Draco. He _deserved_ help. Harry didn't – or so he thought.


	4. Uncle Severus

**Uncle Severus**

"You sure you're ready?" Harry asked as he and Draco wandered down to the dungeons that evening. They were going to tell Snape, and Draco was terrified, shaking and clasping the sleeves of his robes tightly.

Draco cleared his throat before speaking, not wanting to start sobbing again – he'd done quite enough of that _thank-you-very-much!_ "Yeah. I need to."

Harry wasn't stupid though, no matter what anyone thought, and knew immediately the other boy's fears. He could tell Draco was afraid his uncle would disown him, not believe him, or worse yet, not care.

Before he could say anything to try an alleviate those fears however, they were at the door to the formidable potions master's private quarters. Draco had assured Harry that they'd be allowed in – Harry only with Draco's reassurance that the other boy would behave – and so that was where they had ended up.

As Draco reached up a hand to knock on the heavy oak of the door, it swung open, revealing the man himself. Severus Snape eyed the two speculatively before beckoning them in, shooting an unreadable look towards the darker of the two.

Once they were beyond the door, Snape shut and locked it, speaking for the first time. "How may I help, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was slightly taken aback by the given title, as usually he was just referred to as 'Potter' or, least favourably, 'boy', but gave nothing away as he followed the other two occupants into the living area. There, both his professor and Draco sat, looking at Harry expectantly. When he just stood, awkwardly, Snape barked "Sit down, will you?"

"Oh! Sorry… Thank you Sir." Harry tiptoed over to where his friend sat, on a surprisingly lavish black leather settee, and perched on the edge, not wanting to mark the nice piece of furniture, nor really sure what to do. He wasn't very seasoned to dealing with Snape outside classes and detentions, and found himself feeling considerably out of his depth.

Once he'd sat down – very warily, noted Severus – Draco spoke. "I-It's about Father, Sir. There's something I need to tell you…" Here, he trailed off, not sure where to start.

"Has he been abusing you?" Snape asked forwardly, shocking both boys.

The look in his coal black eyes told Draco all he needed to know: his uncle believed him, and that was before anything had even really been said.

"He has." Was all he could say in response, crystal tears clouding his vision. Severus stood, walking over to the boy, and Harry, not having seen the previous look in his eye, but certainly noting it now, stood too, placing himself between them. Severus Snape was angry, and Harry was sure he was going to hurt his friend.

"H-Harry. It's okay. He believes me." Draco spoke between hiccoughs, pulling on the other boy's robe so as to get him to sit back down.

"How d'you know? He's angry, see?" Harry scowled, turning his head only slightly so he was facing both Draco and his teacher. Snape noted this, too.

"'He' has a name, Mr. Potter. It would do you well to remember that. Now, my godson is right; I am not angry with Draco, in fact I'm angry with both Lucius and myself. Please retake your seat, child."

Child? Harry wavered, unsure. Was Snape being _nice_?

"Sit down. Please, Harry?" Draco implored, still tugging on the back of his friend's robe.

"If you're sure…" Harry sat, side-eying Draco to see that he was.

Satisfied, both with the situation and himself for not snarking, Severus strode over to his godson, making Harry gape by enveloping the blond boy in a hug. "Draco, my child, why didn't you tell me sooner?" The boy in his arms shrugged weakly, letting his tears and snot make a damp spot on his godfather's robed shoulder.

The man backed away slightly, tilting Draco's chin up with his forefinger in order to get him to look at him. He had decided, that if the boy wouldn't talk, he would use legilimency on him. As it turned out, Draco wouldn't, and so the master legilimens kept to his unspoken word, delving into the child's mind. What he saw was horrific.

-0-

Seven year old Draco approaching his father, proudly producing a wand from his back pocket to show to him, and in the process, knocking over a vase.

The punishment had been so severe that Draco had screamed, belt whipping his back over one hundred times as he was held down by a sticking charm.

Ten year old, slightly taller Draco, taking his socks off and handing them off to his personal elf to wash, unknowingly freeing the shocked creature. Lucius had crucio'd him that night, over and over until the sun rose. It was a wonder the poor child was still alive, thought Severus, restraining himself and his own emotions in order to make sure he didn't damage the mind he was in.

Twelve year old, wary Draco stepping away from his father and into a forbidden room, causing a loud screech to emit from said room. He'd spent the next three days locked in the dark, dank basement, in a tiny dog cage with no food or water. No one came to check on him until it was time for him to be let out, and only then it was because Narcissa was coming home from her week away in Paris. Draco had somehow lost a stone in those three days, apparently due to a metabolism increasing hex that his father had cast upon him.

And finally, although those were not all instances by far, thirteen year old Draco, sitting at the dinner table in the furthest seat from his parents, almost as though excluded from them, dropping his fork. This time, Lucius had held the terrified teenager above the floor by his neck, belittling and sneering at him. Draco's legs had kicked and his hands had gone to his throat as he gasped for air, pleading with Lucius to let him go, that he would 'be good'.

Only when his sons face was blue did Lucius free him, letting go suddenly so the boy fell to his knees, where he'd been kicked towards the door.

-0-

Severus gently disentangled himself from Draco's mind, pulling out and taking a deep, steadying breath. "That _bastard_."


	5. Gryffindor Tower

**Gryffindor Tower**

"That's not all though, Sir," Harry piped up from where he'd been sitting. He'd realised what it was that Snape was doing immediately, having learnt a lot about Legilimency and Occlumency from Hermione over the summer break via hundreds of letters. "The Slytherins… they-,"

"I know, Harry. I've been observing some very poor conduct between my snakes and Draco – all one sided, mind. Which is why I have decided to have you sleep in my quarters," here Severus addressed his godson.

Draco, who was busy calming his erratic breathing and wiping away his tears, nodded. "I'd like that, Uncle Sev. Thank you."

Harry was stunned. First his most hated professor calls him by his given name, and then he shows real kindness by offering to keep Draco with him. Merlin, his world was being tipped upside down.

-0-

Harry shut the door to his professor's private rooms, leaving Snape and Draco to sort living arrangements out, and paced back to his common room. Today had been full of surprises, both good and bad, and he needed time to process it all.

He had planned to go straight to the third-year boy's dorm, which he shared with Ron, Neville Longbottom, a round faced, rather inept blond boy and Seamus Finnigan, a spritely Irishman, but those plans were scuppered almost as soon as he stepped into Gryffindor Tower.

"Oi, Harry! Is it true you've been hanging around with Malfoy? What was lunch all about?" Dean Thomas, a dark, rather rude boy who Harry thought really belonged in Slytherin, queried disgustedly as Harry stepped through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

The 'goodnight, guys' Harry had had on the tip of his tongue died off, replaced instead with an unspoken string of profanity. Shit. How was he supposed to explain this?

He opted for honesty, without giving too much away. "Yeah, it's true. Got a problem?" Several people nodded and narrowed their eyes. "I don't know if any of you thick-headed lot realised, but he's not the same as he used to be. He's changed, and for the better." Or not, he thought, as he remembered the reasons for his change. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Before Harry could reach the stairs up to his dormitory though, Dean had pushed in front of him, blocking his path. "And what if we _do_ mind, huh? You wanna hang around with a slimy snake and expect us to be fine with that? Are you bloody mad! Oh, wait. Of course you are. No mummy and daddy to lead your way, no wonder you're so trusting. Perfect Potter who can't do any wrong, well you're wrong now! We don't want you sleeping in our dorm – who knows what ideas you've got from _Malfoy_. Who knows what he's put you up to!"

"Bugger off, Thomas. I _really_ don't need this right now," Harry said through grit teeth, trying to barge past. The slimmer boy stayed where he was though, forcing Harry to lose his fragile temper. Before the other boy could react, Harry had shoved him to the side and stormed up the stairs, slamming the door with an unearthly force, unintentionally 'proving' their point that it was all Draco's fault.

-0-

Rummaging around in his trunk, Harry swore. Where the hell was his homework? Deciding he'd find it later, he let the carrier shut with a dull 'thunk' and grabbed it under his arm, making sure he had everything from his dresser and bedside table, and that his wand was still tucked in his back pocket. He wasn't staying here any longer if this is how they were going to treat him. No way.

With that in mind, he pulled the door open and stormed down the stairs, barging past anyone who dared get in his way, and left through the common room door, intent on not coming back until they had changed their disgustingly Gryffindor attitude that all Slytherins were evil. He'd seen proof twice over tonight that that was untrue.

Stomping angrily up the changing castle steps to the third-floor corridor, after deciding that was where he was going to keep himself, Harry bumped into something solid, tall and black. Shit. It was after curfew and he was out. Harry hadn't even thought of that.

Looking up and preparing himself for the incoming detention and stupid questions about why he had his trunk, Harry was surprised to find Professor Snape looking down at him.

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed Mr. Potter. What, may I ask, are you doing wandering around after dark with your trunk, no less?" He didn't look angry, but he made sure not to look happy either. Couldn't be breaking all the rules for the boy in one day now, could he?

"Dean Thomas confronted me about being friends with Draco. They've kicked me out of the dorms so I'm going to the Room of Requirement, hopefully to get some sleep."

Running a stressed hand through his lank hair, Severus decided on something. "Come with me, Mr. Potter. I'm sure I have somewhere far safer you can sleep."

"Y-you don't have to, Professor," Harry said, not wanting to put anyone out. He would be perfectly safe, he was sure.

Severus turned back to face Harry abruptly, scaring the boy into dropping his trunk and covering his head, waiting to be hit. He too, was abused, and this just confirmed Severus' fears.

"Harry. Lower your shield, child," Severus asked, slowly approaching where the huddled boy knelt, erratic magic having thrown up a Protego shield over him for protection. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're at Hogwarts, with mean old snarky Snape."

At this, Harry's shield crumbled, and the boy looked up, fear intense in his gorgeous eyes. "S-sorry Sir."

Inside, he was kicking himself. How could he have lost control? Now Snape would know, and that would take his attention off Draco, who _really_ needed their Professor's help.

He deserved what he got, for being a freak. Draco didn't. Draco was good.


	6. The Truth

**The Truth**

Harry followed his professor down to the dungeons, and subsequently Severus' quarters, where they were met by a sleepy, confused Draco. "What's going on, Uncle Sev? Harry?" The bleary eyed boy looked between the two, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to figure out why Harry was in his godfather's rooms at one in the morning. Had something happened?

"Sorry to disturb you, Draco," Harry whispered apologetically, still trying to find a way to get himself out of the mess he'd somehow got himself into. But how could he explain what had happened away, especially to Snape? The man was so eagle-eyed and all-knowing, it was a wonder his last name wasn't 'Dumbledore'. Snape would know straight away that he was lying, and then what? Maybe he should just tell the truth. Nobody would believe him, anyway; they'd just think he was making it up because Draco was getting more attention than he was.

Snape's voice brought Harry out of his reverie, stating to Draco that both he and Harry were staying with him for now, until he could figure out a way to fix their respective situations. "Har- Mr. Potter will be staying here with you for the time being, Dragon. Is that alright with you?" At Draco's bemused look, he continued, explaining what had happened, seemingly with no regard to Harry or his - already somewhat wounded - pride. "-And so here we are," he finished and, recieving a nod from Draco at last, bid the two boys a good night, walking into the furthest room down the corridor from the living room, and shutting it behind him with a snap.

Harry and Draco sat in silence for a moment, before Draco broke the silence. Shuffling around on his bed - transfigured from one of the silken sofas - to face his enemy-come-friend, he propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Harry, surprised to find the other boy heading for the door.

"Where are you going? Uncle Sev said you were to stay here. You'll be in trouble if you leave, Harry." Draco moved to stand but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Looking up to find Severus standing above him, he let himself settle back down under the duvet. His godfather would deal with this.

"Mr. Potter, where, pray tell, do you think you are going?" The low voice held a warning that both boys were very attuned to, but Harry chose to ignore it this time. He didn't need protecting, especially by someone who had tormented him for over two years. He had always done just fine on his own. Why should that change now, just because someone suspected something?

Turning to face his teacher, a hand placed on the door handle, ready to open it should anything not go his way, Harry answered. "I'm going to the Room of Requirement, sir. It's quiet and safe, and I'd feel infinitely more comfortable there. Now if you would excuse me..." He made as if to pull the door open, but Snape was too quick, wand out and shooting a locking charm at it before Harry could even pull the handle down fully.

Harry's face turned red, infamous temper returning full force. "Open the door, Snape. I don't need your buggering 'protection', I'm fine. Now do me a favour and get your big nose out of my bloody business!" For good measure he slammed his fist into the door, a dull thud resounding around the room.

As if he'd apperated, Draco was in the farthest corner from Harry, huddled in on himself with his hands wrapped protectively around his knees as he rocked, a faraway look in his eyes. His lips moved as though he was saying something, but no sound came from them. The only sound in the now deathly silent living area was the soft creak of the floorboards as Draco rocked back and forth over them.

"Look what you've done, boy!" Severus bellowed, directing his anger at Harry. "Do you honestly think that was a good idea, around Draco, no less?! Damn you. Get out of my sight!" With a flick of his wrist the door was unlocked, and Harry bolted through it, running as fast as his legs could take him. He didn't know where he was headed, all he knew was that it was his fault and Uncle Vernon was coming for him. He had to hide, but where?

He somehow made his way onto the grounds of the school, not truly seeing his surroundings, nor in his right mind, and pelted his way towards the Forbidden Forest. After running for what seemed like forever, the pounding footsteps of his furious uncle stopped, and he found himself alone, in the dark.

He was in the cupboard under the stairs. He'd hidden there, hoping his beefy uncle wouldn't find him, but no! He was here! Harry could hear his heavy breathing now, and he knew he was in for it. Oh Merlin, he was going to die.

-0-

As soon as the door shut, Snape turned to face his godson, taking deep, calming breaths before kneeling to bring the child out from his own personal hell. He was having a flashback, and all he knew was that his father was angry. He was going to pay - for what, he didn't know - just that he would.

"Dragon, you're safe. You're in my quarters, nobody here but me. Open your eyes, child. Come on, that's a good boy," Severus coaxed and praised as the boy came to.

"W-what happened?"

"Potter. He punched the bloody door, causing you to have one of your memory episodes. He's gone now; I told him to leave."

Draco's eyes widened. "You didn't shout did you, godfather?" He asked, worried that the same thing may have happened to Harry. After all, he knew about Harry now, too.

"I... May have raised my voice a little. Why?" Severus confessed. Why was Draco so worried about Potter when the blasted boy had scared him so?

"Damn it! We need to find him! Can you use a tracking spell please? I'll gather out outer coats, in case he's found his way outside. Merlin, he's probably terrified." He sent a reproachful look at Snape, knowing full well that Harry didn't like to be out of control, and that his godfather had taken that from him. Draco knew Severus did it for Harry's best interests, but Merlin did he go the wrong way about it!

Gathering their cloaks and checking the tracking spell Snape - who was suddenly feeling very guilty - had cast, Draco headed out of the door, his godfather hot on his heals. After finding their way to the entrance hall, and seeing the silvery line that led to the forest, Draco took off at full speed, intent on finding Harry. The forbidden forest was no place for anyone, especially someone who was most probably having a flashback of their own.

Severus signed and pinched the bridge of his nose before taking long steps to follow his Gryffindorishly impulsive godson, and finally they found the boy, sat with his back against a weathered old tree, muttering something that couldn't be heard from where he stood.

-0-

"Please, uncle. I'll be a good boy. I won't do it again, I swear! Please don't! No! NO!" Harry was trapped in a terrifying altered reality, at least because it wasn't happening right now, and his uncle was coming and he had his belt, buckle side out, and oh god he was gonna die oh god oh god oh-

"Harry!" The shout brought his shaking hands above his head, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes as the footsteps got closer until suddenly - suddenly nothing happened.

He opened his eyes, confused by his surroundings. This wasn't his cupboard. And why was Draco there, and Snape? Memories of the last 45 minutes came flooding back and he stood, backing away. Snape was mad. Damn. Maybe he was going to die after all.


	7. Traumatized

**Traumatized**

"Harry! Oh, Harry. There you are! We were so worried-."

"-Draco, quiet down a bit please; I don't think H-Harry is quite with us yet," Snape warned, knowing black eyes filling with guilt. "Harry, it is Draco and Professor Snape. Neither of us are going to hurt you, alright child? We will not come any closer unless you give us permission."

Harry was shaking. Was Snape lying just to get him to give permission to come closer, and inevitably beat him? Or was he being honest? Harry's frazzled mind didn't know and so he collapsed to the floor, curling himself into a ball so tight, it was a wonder his spine didn't crack. Fearful tears leaked from those stupendously bright eyes, memories of his uncle threatening to do just that – break his spine – coming back to haunt him.

"Uncle Sev, do something," Draco whispered urgently, not wanting to see his new best friend so upset.

Severus decided that his godson was right. That it wouldn't be fair to let the boy stay so distressed if they could do something to help. "Child, I'm coming closer now. I'm not going to touch you, I just need you to take this for me; it's a calming draught. Can you do that for me and Draco?" as he spoke he pulled said potion from one of the many inner pockets of his heavy, black cloak.

Harry could hear, but he didn't know what was being said, which is why when something solid and cool was pressed into his hand, he jumped, spilling the contents of the class vail.

"Okay, Harry. Look at me, I need to make sure you hear me." Snape, when Harry obeyed his command, passed over another vail, repeating his explanation of what was in the little clear bottle.

Harry nodded, finally understanding, and swallowed the thick blue substance in one fell swoop. Almost immediately the effects took hold, all stress and anxiety from before, leaving his body. Now he just felt drained, and the dark bags under his eyes showed it.

Knowing that the potion had worked, Severus knelt before the worn-out child, picked him up and started to carry him back to the castle of Hogwarts, Draco following closely behind. The blond boy still didn't much like nor trust the forest, after his and Harry's first year detention.

When they were back down in the dungeons, Snape let Harry down to walk the last few steps to his quarters, where the emotionally exhausted teen sat on the edge of Draco's transfigured bed, staring into the distance.

His professor startled him by coming to sit beside him, pulling him into his lap and wrapping his arms around the boy's small frame. "Relax child. I'm sorry I shouted; I shouldn't have. I have no excuse, having known your past. It was wrong of me. I assure you though," Severus said, placing his head atop the child's and rubbing the tension from the poor boys back, "that you can trust me. I _will not_ hurt you, that I can promise. You may find yourself over my knee sometimes, for misbehaviour, but I won't abuse you. Please believe me, little Harry."

Severus almost had tears in his eyes by the end of his speech. This was Lily's child, and he had scared him into thinking he was back at his evil relative's house, about to endure something so horrific that Snape didn't want to think too much about it, if it could be helped.

Draco was alarmed. The last hour and a half had gone by so quickly, and now Harry was upset and he didn't know how to help. But really, what could he do? He was in the same situation and knew how much it hurt to remember things so vividly, but he couldn't even deal with his own emotions right now, let alone someone else's and so he stood, standing awkwardly off to the side as his godfather tried to reassure his friend. "I… think I'm going to lay down. Is that alright Uncle Severus?"

At his nod, Draco transformed the other sofa into a bed and lay down, letting Harry have the one he was sat on.

-0-

Harry eventually calmed down enough to fall asleep. Snape didn't think it was really fair that he had to do so in his lap though, and shifted the boy around so that he was tucked up in the transfigured bed. He'd speak to Dumbledore in the morning, explain the situation and have the boys let off classes for the day. They needed their sleep and time to recuperate.

-0-

Morning came and the professor and two boys sat around the kitchen table, eating their breakfasts of Greek yoghurt, honey and fresh fruit. It was a silent affair, no one knowing quite what to say after the night before.

Eventually, when everyone had finished their food, Snape spoke up, asking Harry if he could have a private word. "Harry, I need to have a word with you in a moment, please. Draco, if you wouldn't mind occupying yourself for a few minutes?" He motioned towards the door, insinuating that he should leave them to whatever it was they were going to talk about.

Once the young aristocrat was out of hearing range, Severus began. "Harry, I need to know more about your past. Will you tell me, or at least give me permission to use legilimency on you?" the man asked, courteously.

"You can legilimize me if you want. I don't really want to talk about it, if that's okay," the sullen boy replied. He lifted his head to meet Snape's eyes and was thrown into a whirlwind of Dursley memories, starting at the age of 3, when he was able to walk, talk and, in his aunt and uncle's opinion, run the house.

It began with little Harry sucking his thumb, trying to figure out if the bacon was cooked enough. He stood on a chair so he could reach the stovetop, and eyed it decisively. "BOY! Don't you dare touch my food with that infected little thumb of yours! Wash it now!" Vernon Dursley bellowed from the table, where he, his wife and son sat, waiting for Harry to finish making their breakfast.

Harry jumped to do as he was told, jumping off his perch – and receiving a glare for his efforts – and dragging it over to the sink, where he washed his tiny hands vigorously. When he's moved back to the bacon, however, it was burnt. Tears filled the boys eyes, knowing what was to happen next.

Sure as anything, he was right. As predicted, his uncle smelt the burning and came over to see where it was coming from, and finding the bacon ruined, flew off the handle. He backhanded the poor toddler off of his chair, before picking him up by the scruff of his neck, dragging his knees across the floor and throwing him into his bedroom – a cupboard under the stairs.

"You can stay here for the rest of the day, brat. If I hear a peep out of you, you'll be sorry you were born!" Little Harry nodded, gulping down his sobs and bolding his hand, bent back from an awkward landing.

-0-

Snape pulled out, having seen enough. He'd known from the night before that the boy was abused, but from such a young age? He couldn't stomach it. Right now he needed to think, and figure out how the hell to stop the boy from being forced back to that place.


	8. A Proposition

**A Proposition**

Harry was ashamed, mostly because he didn't have the energy to be angry, which he surely had been any other time Snape tried to use legilimency on him. Right now though, he just felt defeated.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, Harry. Thank you for giving me permission to use such invasive techniques within your mind; it helps me to understand more – understand _you_ more. Are you alright?" Severus asked, reeling his emotions back in when he noticed the child's face. He looked dejected and sad. Severus decided to have a talk with the headmaster, but for now, Harry needed him.

He walked around the table until he was as the boy's side, where he softly spoke his name. "Harry, it is okay to be sad you know. You don't need to be ashamed or scared here, not with me especially… not any more. I promise you, child, that I will do my level best to get you through this and out of that shi-… place. I owe it to you, after two years of treating you poorly. It cannot have helped the situation, and for that I apologise. I will endeavour to change, even if it puts me out of spying on the Dark Lord for that barmy old coot. Your safety and happiness by far holds precedence."

By the end of what the professor would later look back on as an asinine ramble, both occupants of the small kitchen were fighting back tears. This was all too real, and neither of them truly knew what to do.

That was until Severus had an idea, a lightbulb moment, if you will. He needed to talk to the boys – his boys…

-0-

"Draco, would you mind calling Wally to bring us tea? We need to talk," Severus called as he and Harry entered the living room where the blond was sat, working on his homework. Draco nodded and clicked his fingers, summoning his godfathers personal house elf to him and requesting refreshments for the three of them.

The sickly green, bulbous eyed creature nodded, large ears flapping around as it hurried to do as it was asked. Wally loved master Severus, and his godchild, but he wasn't too sure about the dark boy.

"Thank you, Wally. We appreciate your help," Harry said, noticing the sceptical look the little elf eyed him with. He seemed to distrust Harry, and Harry could understand that. He was new, after all. New people were unknown and therefore untrustworthy until proven otherwise, which is why Harry thanked the servant, hoping to prove that he was nice enough for his friendship, or at least trust.

The little green beast squeaked. A thank you? That was unheard of… unless this was the boy Dobby talked about? It must be, look at the scar! It was Harry Potter!

"M-mr. Potter! Thank you, thank you. No need to thank me, it is I's job to help, after alls. You is Dobby's friend, yes. Wally knows lots about you, yes he does!" The scatter-brained creature gushed. Harry Potter was a lovely boy, according to Dobby – a boy worth respect.

-0-

Harry had met Dobby over the summer, after the elf popped in during Uncle Vernon's dinner party with his Grunnings colleagues. The elf had scared Harry, as he was in his cupboard at the time, one with not enough room for him alone, let alone another. It was dark in his cupboard, so all Harry saw were gigantic, bright blue eyes staring back it him. He fought back a scream, knowing that if he did, he would ruin his Uncle's evening and pay dearly for it, after the guests had gone, that is.

Dobby had come to tell Harry not to go back to Hogwarts, that there was danger and he wouldn't be safe. Something about a dark man and the leader of the light… Harry couldn't remember exactly what was said.

The little elf left when asked, but left Harry with a warning. This, he did remember: "Choose wisely between what you think is good and what you think is bad, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. This year will be different. Things will change, but only if you let them!" And with that, he had disappeared with a 'pop'.

-0-

Once Wally had finished bowing to Harry and making the tea, he was told to go back down to the kitchens. Severus didn't want this conversation overheard – by _anybody_.

-0-

The two young men sat in silence, sipping at their drinks and waiting for their professor to begin. Of course, both were very curious, but both also knew not to interrupt or ask what it was Snape wanted to say. He would start in his own time, when he figured out exactly how to put what it was he wanted into words. Words that the boys would understand and, hopefully, agree to.

Once he'd mulled it over for a while, sipping his own drink, Severus began. "I want to help you both out of your situations. I can figure out only one way to do so, and that is to have you taken in as my wards. That would mean adoption," Snape clarified, noting the boys shared confusion.


	9. Tantrum

**Tantrum**

 **A/N: There will be a lot of swearing in this chapter; if that offends you, skip this chapter, though I warn you, you will be missing out on a lot of Harry/Severus interaction. Please R &R! It helps fuel my writing **

"So let me get this straight," Harry started, eyes flashing in anger, "you want me to just happily go along with this like some naïve little child, when you've hated my bloody guts for two fucking years?!" He stood, pacing around the room and gesticulating wildly. Before his professor could respond, however, he went on. "Not likely, you wanker! Think you can come and try and rescue me from those fuckers of a family, pretend to be nice for a while and then I'll just lay down and do whatever it is you want? For all I know, if this goes ahead - which it _won't_ if I have any say in it – then you'll turn me in to that old snake-faced prick. No. I won't do it!"

By the end of his tirade, Harry was glaring at Snape, stock still apart from his shaking and fists clenched at his sides. He was beyond furious. How _dare_ the evil bat try and take advantage of his situation, under a guise of 'caring'? 'My ass,' thought Harry as he stared into calm – only by years of practice – black eyes.

"If you are done, Harry?" Severus asked, low voice laced with a warning.

Of course, Harry and his Gryffindor stubbornness, wasn't done. "Quit calling me that! Or can I call you 'Sev'? Huh? Its too fucking personal. You have no tossing _right,_ you slimy bastard!"

Severus had had enough. The boy was being downright belligerent and rude – enough was enough. "Draco, please go to the dining room. Harry and I need to have a little _talk_."

Draco, knowing just want his godfather meant by the tilt of his voice, agreed that it would be better if I weren't around to see what was about to unfold. He'd been punished this way before, and so on his way out, sent a commiserating look towards his soon-to-be-sorry friend.

Once Draco was out of the way, Snape took a few calming breaths before sitting down in the middle of the free sofa. "Come here, Harry."

"I thought I told you not to call me that!" Harry retorted, unsure of what was going on. He knew this wasn't going to be just a talk, from the look Draco had shot him, but he also trusted his teacher enough to know he wouldn't abuse him. He may not necessarily _like_ the snarky git, but he knew a truth from a lie, not that you'd know it from his recent tantrum.

Thinking back on it, maybe Snape was telling the truth. He hadn't lied to him so far, after all… Harry gulped, suddenly feeling guilty. "Sir…"

"I'll ask again, child. Please come here." Severus saw the change of emotion, but the boy still needed to know he was in the wrong and that any misdeeds wouldn't go unchecked or unpunished. He didn't want to have to do this, especially to a victim of physical abuse, but he knew he had to; he knew it would get through to him.

Harry started shaking for a new reason now. He was scared. Maybe he was wrong, and Snape was going to hit him? 'Oh Merlin, what do I do?'

"Please Sir. I'm sorry…"

"I am not going to abuse you, Harry. I need you to come here though. Can you do that or do I need to come and carry you over?" A sardonic eyebrow raised, Severus made to stand up.

Mortified, Harry relented. "No! No, I'll come to you, thank you." And so he did, walking over to where his professor sat, stopping just a couple of feet away, so as to be out of arms reach.

Snape understood Harry's uncertainty, but really, he must know he wasn't going to be beaten. "Closer, Harry."

Harry shuffled a tiny bit closer.

His dark, lank haired teacher reached out a hand towards him and he flinched, on edge.

"Harry, I am not going to beat you, my child. You are simply to be taken across my knee. Have you never been spanked?" The professor knew the answer: of course he hadn't. The boy was thrown around and starved, but never received corporal punishment. A few smacks on a child's bottom, clothed or bared, was the standard within the wizarding world. Nearly all pureblood families punished their children in this way.

As predicted, Harry shook his head. He'd seen other children get smacked on their bottoms, but never received such treatment. It seemed so embarrassing anyway! He didn't want a spanking!

"Will you lay over my knee Harry? Or do I need to take you over? It's up to you; whichever you are most comfortable with." Severus said, hoping that giving the child the choice would ease his fears a little.

"I… I don't know how to, sir." Harry flushed. This was so embarrassing.

"Then I shall help you. Give me your arm." Snape reached for Harry's wrist again, this time moving slowly so as not to startle the boy.

Harry, noting that Snape was being surprisingly docile, did as he was told.

Before he knew it, he was laid over the man's lap, a sharp swat landing upon his trouser clad rear end. "Ow." Harry was pleasantly shocked to find that he wasn't scared, just slightly uncomfortable.

Fourteen more swats later, he was significantly more uncomfortable, and was openly crying over his teacher's knee.

"Tell me, child. Why are you being punished?" Severus asked, this being a part of the lesson the child was to learn.

"B-because I yelled at you, sir," Harry cried.

"And what else?"

"I called you names?" A whimper now as another smack landed. "What was that for?"

"Was that an answer or a question?" Severus reprimanded, letting the boy know he wanted a sure answer with another swat.

"A-an answer! Please, sir, I'm sorry. I'll be good." Harry sniffled and wiggled around on his professor's lap, trying and failing to avoid the oncoming smacks. It _hurt_. He still didn't feel afraid though – just ashamed and truly sorry for his actions.

Finally, Snape let up, rolling the boy over so he was sat in his lap, where he stroked his damp hair and whispered soft assurances that he was still a good boy, and that Snape didn't hate him. "You're naughty, not bad. I hope to teach you better behaviour, and that may take time and more of this, but you will learn, and you will appreciate it in the long run. Hush now, child. It's all okay. You look exhausted though' do you need to lay down?"

"Y-yes sir," Harry sniffled, enjoying being held. He was tired, emotionally exhausted and with a sore bottom, and found the idea of a nap very inviting.

Severus stood, the quieting boy still held in his arms, and walked over to the bed. There, he lay the child down, tucking him in and brushing his fringe from his eyes, gazing into the bright, sleepy orbs and smiling softly. This, he would get used to. He truly did care for the boy, and knew that it would take time, but he hoped he trusted him enough to let him do the right thing, even if Harry didn't believe it at the time.

"Sleep well, child. I shall talk to Professor Dumbledore which you rest. I should be back by the time you awaken. But if not, Draco definitely will be."

"Good night, sir," Harry murmured softly, eyes drifting closed.

He dreamt of warm cuddles and someone called 'dad', sore bottoms and reassuring words. For once in he didn't know how long, Harry slept well.


	10. The Headmaster

The Headmaster

Professor Dumbledore was sat at his desk, filing through paperwork and incendio-ing howlers and complaints. He didn't have time for obnoxious, know-it-all people, even if he was one himself, or so some people said...

A knock at his door brought him out of his demolishing fest and he hastily removed all evidence of the ashes. Waving his wand to admit his guest entrance, he was unsurprised to see Severus Snape, his potions professor.

"Ah, my dear boy. Have a seat, won't you!" the ageing man said, beckoning said man into his office with an exuberant wave of his hand and a deceptively warm smile. "What is it I can help you with?" As if he didn't already know!

Albus Dumbledore was the leader of the light - the side of the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named - and the most powerful wizard of his time. He defeated Grindelwald, but for some reason wasn't up to the task of destroying Voldemort, the current Dark Lord. No, Albus was leaving this one up to a rather small, bespectacled teenage boy, one with a name you may have heard of: Harry James Potter.

He knew the boy would survive, as it was prophesied, that it would be either Voldemort or Harry that died, and Harry, as much as Albus hated to admit it, was magically powerful. Small in size but big in confidence (not that he knew otherwise anyway), and the only person who had survived the killing curse in all of history.

Albus had been watching the boy very closely all his life. Of course he knew about the so-called 'abuse' the boy suffered from, but really, it was for the greater good. The more he hated them, the more anger he had, and henceforth more emotional power to fuel his magic when it came to defeating the Dark Lord. So yes, the headmaster knew everything, even down to why Severus was visiting him right now.

"Thank you, sir." Severus sat down on a rather large, red and gold high-backed chair facing the headmaster's desk. There he began to speak, getting straight to the point of his visit, not being one to beat around the bush. "I would like your permission to adopt Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter - to become their legal guardian and keep them from any further harm, as it were. The Potter boy has been quite severely abused from a young age, and Draco from the age of five or six too. They need to be kept with someone who is willing to keep them safe and guide them in the right direction - to the light, if you will."

"I wish I could let you, my boy, but as circumstance has it, Harry is safer with his aunt and uncle. They may not be the best people, but the blood wards around their house keeps him out of Voldemort or his Death Eater's hands. Young Mr. Malfoy, however, I do admit would be safer with you. You have my permission to adopt him, if it is your will. Harry, however, must stay where he is."

The headmaster spoke with such finality that Severus knew there would be no reasoning with him. He'd have to get Harry some other way; there was no way he was letting him go back to the Dursleys.

-0-

Severus, after parting ways with Albus, paced back down to the dungeons, where he knew his boys were safe and sound. He was trying to come up with some way to persuade the headmaster to let him adopt both boys, but was coming up short. He knew Dumbledore knew of Harry's abuse, and was furious. Harry would be safer away from both him and the Dursleys, and he was going to find a way to make it happen.

For now though, he'd reached his quarters, and was watching as Harry was royally thrashed at wizard chess by his godson. He made a mental note to tutor Harry in the art of the game later.

"Hello, boys," he spoke from the doorway, startling the blond and the brunette. "I hope you've not been up to any mischief while I've been gone?" He raised an eyebrow, the quirk in his lips giving him away. The professor did have a sense of humor, despite his hard exterior.

"No sir. We've been playing chess since Harry woke up about an hour ago. I've beat him 3 times so far, haven't I, Harry?" Draco said smugly, although in a joking manor so as not to offend his friend. Harry didn't like it when Draco was snobby. He much preferred the real, genuine side of him.

At that moment, Harry felt it time to change the subject. "So... How did it go with Professor Dumbledore, sir?" he asked, referring to the conversation Severus had told Harry he was to have, and did have, just a moment ago.

"I'm afraid he has only permitted the adoption of Draco," at this, the blond haired boy beamed, "but you, I'm afraid Harry, are desired to stay with your mongrel relatives. I will find a way out of this - not all hope is lost, don't you worry. I have a plan..."


End file.
